Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Namibia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Joey Negro to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
The Wake,
The Velvet Underground,
Mo-Dettes,
Bill Near,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pussy Galore,
X-102,
DJ Sneak,
Albert Ayler,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Barrington Levy,
Camberwell Now,
Peter and Kerry,
Surgeon,
Gil Scott Heron,
Main Source,
The Fall,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
H. Thieme,
Ohio Players,
Adolescents,
Sexual Harrassment,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sparks,
Yazoo,
Popol Vuh,
Maleditus Sound,
Idris Muhammad,
Mantronix,
the Normal,
Porter Ricks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Joey Negro,
The Electric Prunes,
Essential Logic,
The New Christs,
Kayak,
Swans,
Tubeway Army,
Metal Thangz,
Faust,
The Neon Judgement,
Eve St. Jones,
Derrick Morgan,
Brand Nubian,
Radiopuhelimet,
Babytalk,
Bizarre Inc.,
Howard Jones,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
the Slits,
Delon & Dalcan,
Boz Scaggs,
The Stooges,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scion,
Blake Baxter,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Shadows of Knight,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.